


The Next Part of the Routine

by everythingsshiny



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, figure skating AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-14 21:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5759728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingsshiny/pseuds/everythingsshiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi skates alone. </p><p>But Erwin Smith seems intent on changing that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a year ago as a gift for a friend's birthday. It was supposed to be a one-shot. It turned into a three-shot. Oops. 
> 
> Anyway, I thought I'd finally let it see the light of day. 
> 
> I am not a figure skater and only did minimal research on figure skating (and occasionally ignored the facts I had researched to serve my plot). If you are actually a figure skater this will probably make you cry.

The slight chill bites his nose and teases his fingertips. It feels sharp and clear, as does everything else in the arena; the bright white of the ice, the rink’s defined edges, the twin lines his skates carve out behind him.

Sharp and clear. That’s how Levi endeavors to make his movements. No muscle out of line, no skate wavering in the slightest. Sharp, clear, and controlled. Levi takes a breath and closes his eyes, envisioning his routine.  The minute he opens them, he launches into motion.

His routines are difficult. It’s a matter of intense concentration, awareness of every inch of his body. “Effortlessly graceful,” he’s been called – but in reality it takes a great deal of effort. The harder he works, the easier it looks. And the easier it looks, the more Levi appears to float across the ice and fly through the air. And, when he does everything correctly, he feels that way, too – like he’s flying, like gravity no longer has control over him.

That’s the feeling Levi lives for.

He moves through each intricate part of his routine, ending in a particularly difficult jump and settling into his final pose. It feels a little silly to strike the pose now, in the empty space where no one will applaud for him, but Levi always practices exactly how he’ll perform. He holds his arms up and keeps his eyes closed, already thinking about the routine he just did and the improvements that need to be made. His concentration is not broken until a sound cuts through what he thought was an empty arena. One anomalous, unexpected set of hands clap together, creating a harsh sound that echoes across the rink.  

Levi scowls at the man leaning on the boards, a man who should definitely not be here.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you,” the man says when he sees Levi’s scowl. “I thought the rink would be empty and came by to practice.”

“I booked this space,” Levi says. “I have it for another half hour. Come back later.”          

“My apologies. I must have misread the schedule,” he says. “But, since I’m already here, would you mind terribly if I watched for the remainder of your practice? You’re very skilled.”

“Yes, I would mind,” Levi says. Not the most polite response, but Levi never cared much about that. His solitary practice times are important to him.

 “Very well, then,” the man says, apparently unperturbed by Levi’s rudeness. “I’ll come back in half an hour.”

And he leaves. Levi watches his retreating form with some curiosity. This man is tall, broad, and blond, and for some reason looks very familiar.

*****

Levi knows that the man takes the ice as soon as he’s done. He sees him stepping onto the rink from a different entrance than where Levi exits. And Levi doesn’t really care. He’s already thinking about something else.

But as Levi’s about to step into the locker room, he hears the man’s blades scrape against the ice and glances over his shoulder. Just out of curiosity.

What he sees is not what he expects.

This man can skate. Not just basic tricks, like Levi was expecting. Beautiful, complex, demanding tricks that only the very best can achieve. He moves through jumps and spins with extraordinary precision and expertise. The skill level is incredible, but more than that, he is captivating. He gives the impression of having complete command over the entire rink, and Levi can’t bring himself to look away.

The man glides close to where Levi is watching, and Levi quickly ducks into the locker room door to avoid being seen. As he leaves the arena, he can’t stop thinking about what he just witnessed.

Levi knows now exactly why the man looked familiar. But he’s having a hard time believing it.

*****

Erwin Smith and his partner, Marie Dawk, gave a performance for the history books at last year’s winter Olympics.  

Levi rewatches their Olympic routine that night on YouTube. The man from that afternoon looks so different in costume, like someone unreal who could never actually be met. But he has the tight turns and precise landings and strong presence that Levi had watched that day. His talent seems almost superhuman.

Erwin Smith and his partner had pulled off some impossible lifts and some gorgeous jumps in that routine. They had won silver, but the denial of the gold was still hotly contested among fans of figure skating.

Levi watches through their routine twice. Marie makes an elegant figure in a purple dress and white beading on the bodice. Erwin wears a matching (and slightly silly-looking) outfit of white trousers and a purple shirt. It definitely looks better on her than him, but then again, she commands more of viewer’s attention. Erwin is merely there to compliment Marie, to support her when necessary and to mirror her when not. He grounds the performance, but Marie provides the beauty and elegance that people watch Olympic figure skating for. Still, both are equally impressive skaters. Levi examines each movement with a critical eye and, despite the routine’s difficulty, can’t find a single moment when a skate’s out of line.

*****

When Levi returns to the rink the next day, he finds Erwin Smith unlacing his skates in the locker room.

“You’re Erwin Smith,” Levi says. It comes out in an almost accusatory tone. How dare he be Erwin Smith, Olympic silver medalist, and yet be right in front of him. So unassuming. And be so damn annoying.

Erwin looks up, surprised. “I am,” he says. “I’m flattered that you recognize me.”

“Of course I fucking recognize you. What are you doing here?”

“I just finished practicing-”

“No, I mean in this town.” Levi would know if Erwin Smith lived in the same town as him. He would remember that kind of detail about one of the best skaters in the world.

“I’ve made a recent move.” That meant he would be using this rink from now on. Levi doesn’t know how he feels about that.

 “Marie Dawk move here too?” Levi’s not quite sure why he’s being so confrontational, but it’s either that or admit how incredibly overwhelming it is to be in the presence of _Erwin fucking Smith_.

 “No, she didn’t,” Erwin says. His tone is even, as though making a remark of no consequence, but his voice is just a little quieter than before.

“Then how are you two going to practice?”

“Oh, we’re not partners anymore.”  

“What?” Levi’s shocked out of his irritation. There’s no way the two of them aren’t partners anymore. Erwin Smith and Marie Dawk are always together, one entity, names said in quick sequence as though they’re one word.

“She wanted to focus on her marriage and raise a family. She stopped skating.”

“Someone as good as Marie Dawk doesn’t just stop skating.”

Erwin smiles sadly. “That’s what I said.” Then he stands, bag slung over his shoulder, and says, “Have a nice practice,” as casually as though they had been discussing the weather and not the end of one of the most influential duos in the figure skating world.

Levi’s standing in the middle of the locker room, mulling over the weirdest conversation he’s had in a while, when he hears Erwin call, “I never caught your name.”

Startled out of his thoughts, Levi looks over his shoulder to see Erwin standing in the doorway. From this angle, Erwin looks impressively tall.  “Uh, Levi.”

“Levi.” Erwin says it slowly, as if discovering how the word tastes in his mouth. The sound makes Levi feel weird in a way he can’t quite identify. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll see you around.” And Erwin gives Levi a smile, one that’s kind and warm and not unattractive. Levi’s too startled by the smile to respond, and then Erwin’s gone, leaving Levi to wonder what just happened.

*****

Levi’s coach is already on the ice when he arrives, running through a few moves while she waits for him. Levi steps onto the ice and watches her elegantly come out of a spin. “Hi,” Petra says. She’s smiling, as usual. She’s so cheerful that Levi wonders how they’ve been able to work together so well. “You’ll never guess who I was watching just now.”

“Erwin Smith,” Levi says.

“Okay, it looks like you did guess.”

“I met him.”

“I talked to him a little, too. He seems really nice.”

“I guess.” Levi begins moving around the ice, doing some quick warm-up laps. Petra falls into step next to him.

“Shame he’s going to be your competition at nationals this year. He’ll be hard to beat.”

“He’s entering men’s singles?” 

“Of course. He’s split off with his partner, so men’s singles is the only way he can still compete.”

“Oh.” Levi hadn’t thought of that yet, what with the shock of finding a world-class figure skater sharing the rink with him. But of course that makes perfect sense. And it means that Levi will see even more of Erwin around the competition circuit. So much for winning Nationals with Erwin fucking Smith competing against him.

“Anyway,” Petra says, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Let’s get started by working through some choreography.”

*****

National championships are in three months. International championships are six months after that. And the Olympics are in three years.

Levi intends to go to all of them.

It’s not that he wants the fame or the medal or the recognition. Levi could skate without anyone watching for all he cares. It’s that Levi wants to go as far as he can go. With each higher level of competition, Levi gets closer to the feeling of clarity, of freedom, that he skates for. Going to the Olympics, he figures, will feel the freest of all.

He finishes a run-through under Petra’s watchful eye and then drops his final pose, waiting for Petra’s feedback.

“That was really good,” she calls from the edge of the rink. “Pick up the timing on that camel spin, but other than that you have the moves down almost perfectly. But . . .”

Levi doesn’t like that word. “But what?”

“It’s missing something.”

Levi crosses his arms and waits for Petra’s pronouncement.

“I think it needs more choreography.”

Levi suppresses a groan. He hates the choreography, the little dances that just take up space and aren’t very difficult. For him, it’s is all about the technical skill of the tricks, and any choreography is just fluff. “There’s choreography every second I’m not doing a specific move,” Levi says. “I don’t know where you could squeeze in any more.”  

Petra tilts her head to the side and taps her finger against her chin, thinking. “Everything technical you have down. You also have the grace and poise we need. But for some reason, you’re just lacking in presence. It’s kind of like . . . you’re so small and flighty you need something to ground you.”

Levi scowls at that. He hates unnecessary choreography, and he’s not too thrilled at being called “small and flighty” either. But he trusts Petra’s instincts, and he knows that doing what Petra suggests is the key to making it where he wants to go.  

“Well,” he says, not bothering to hide the annoyance from his tone. “What do you suggest?”       

*****

For the next several days, Petra fills a good chunk of Levi’s practice sessions with new ideas and ways to rewrite the routine, trying to get him to look more “grounded”. But each one falls short of Petra’s vision, and Levi’s beginning to wonder if it’s a lost cause. He’s small and quick, and he’s never been the type to take up space or demand attention.

That seems to be Erwin Smith’s role. They see only each other in passing over the next couple weeks, but wherever they meet Erwin seems to take up the whole space he’s in. Fill doorways, block hallways, take up all of Levi’s attention in the locker room until the air feels warm and stifling. The guy seems to be everywhere, and he sticks in Levi’s mind after he’s gone. And it pisses Levi off.

When Erwin shows up, yet again, to one of his solitary practices, Levi’s had enough.

“There’s a class after me,” Levi snaps at him. Erwin’s sitting in the bleachers, apparently just watching, and Levi doesn’t know how long he’s been there. “You won’t be able to practice.”

Erwin stands and approaches the rink. Levi can tell by how he walks that he already wears his skates. “I came to see you,” he says.

“I’m practicing alone.” Levi tries to emphasize the word “alone”.   

“You’re amazing, you know.”

Well, Levi’s not expecting that. He swallows back his initial reaction – surprise and pride and a strange, jittery feeling that comes with the words – so that all that’s left is irritation. “What, are you ingratiating yourself to the competition?” he asks.

“What? No. Not at all.”

“Says the Olympic silver medalist complimenting the young skater.”

“I have no ulterior motive. Just because I’m good doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate others who are,” Erwin says smoothly. He bends down to lean against the boards. “Can I skate with you?”

Skate _with_ him? What does he want to do, skate around in leisurely circles while they share their life stories? “No.”

“You’re very blunt, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Erwin smiles. This one is a strange smile. His mouth turns up but his eyes are focused, as though Levi’s a puzzle that he enjoys solving. It’s not any less attractive than his other smile, but it gives Levi the jittery feeling again. “I’m sorry if my request came across as odd. You see, I miss skating with someone else. Someone to critique me and to build ideas off of.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to give that to you?”

“You’re the only skater in the area who’s skilled enough.”

“High praise, coming from someone with your reputation.”

“It’s true.”

Levi turns to skate away, but he motions over his shoulder as he does so. It’s a last-minute decision, made almost in spite of himself. The only thing Levi wants to do more than see Erwin piss off is to figure out what Erwin’s deal is. “Well, you’ve flattered me enough, I guess,” he says. “But don’t expect too much. I don’t like to talk while I skate.”

Levi returns to drilling the move he had been practicing, a short traveling jump. It’s much trickier than the low height would suggest, and Levi aims to practice it until he cannot possibly get it wrong.

“That’s impressive,” Erwin says. “You’re very graceful.”

“Mm-hm.”

“May I suggest something?”

Levi wants to say no. But then again, this is an Olympic silver medalist offering to give him advice. He nods.

“Have your arms up a little higher on the landing. They’re not just out to balance you; they’re also demanding that the audience look at you.”

“I keep my arms parallel to the ice on the landing,” Levi says.         

“You’re actually holding them slightly lower. It’s easy to do, especially when concentrating on your footwork and your posture. And while it’s barely noticeable, the change will help your performance.”

Levi shrugs, but when he takes the jump again, he tries out Erwin’s advice. Sure enough, his balance and momentum feel slightly stronger.

“That looks better already,” Erwin says. “You’re good at making quick improvements.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Levi says, gliding past Erwin. He runs the move a couple more times, careful to keep the change.

“I wasn’t patronizing you,” Erwin says when he’s done. “You’d be surprised at how many people are reluctant to take suggestions.”

“Maybe it’s because you offer it down like think you’re better than everyone.”

“Do I?”

“You do.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I certainly don’t think I’m better than everyone.”

“Then don’t walk around with your nose in the air.”

“But good posture is important.”

Levi gives him a sidelong glare. Erwin’s barely suppressed smile shows that he intended the statement as a joke. That’s almost worse than if he hadn’t, given how incredibly not funny it was. He can’t believe that _this_ is a world-famous skater.

Levi decides to not honor that statement with a response and continues practicing his jump.

“So, will you be entering Nationals this year?” Erwin asks after a minute of silence. “I hear that there’s a lot of strong young competition coming up.”

“You talk too much,” Levi says.

“Well, I know I’m not taciturn and blunt, but we can’t all be perfect.”

Levi stops and stares. The line was delivered in a deadpan, and Erwin’s expression betrays nothing. No one has ever commented on his poor social skills in such a direct way before. Levi’s kind of impressed.

Of course, he’s not going to say as much. Instead, he skates past Erwin and, as he does, stops suddenly and sends a cascade of ice savings flying onto him. Unfortunately, Erwin is so damn tall that it all lands harmlessly somewhere around his middle.  

“Well now, that was childish.” But Erwin’s smile and suppressed laughter reveal what he really thinks.

“You were asking for it, old man.”

“Excuse me, but I’m barely older than you.”

Levi practices his jump again in a blatant display of ignoring Erwin.

“Well then, if we’re going to be fighting, I’d like to propose a skating-themed conflict.”

Levi crosses his arms and cocks his head, waiting to see what the hell Erwin is thinking.

“My old partner and I would often have what we called skate-offs,” Erwin says. “Would you indulge me in one now?”

“What is it?”

“We simply challenge each other on different skating abilities.”

“I think that’d be a pretty unfair competition.”

“I think you underestimate your own abilities. We could start simple – for example, the

most triple jumps in under a minute.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anything lamer.”

“I’m honored to have set a record.”

Levi shakes his head. “You’re on, Mr. Olympics,” he says. “Time me.”                   

*****

An hour later, Levi is exhausted, out of breath, and thoroughly enjoying himself. They’ve done as many stupid competitions as they could think of—most rotations of a spin in under thirty seconds, fastest skating, slowest skating (to practice control), and so on. And every now and then, Erwin had given him pointers on his moves, little changes that made Levi that much better. At one point, Levi even dared to give a suggestion to Erwin, and he gladly took it.

It’s still a little weird to step back and realize he’s skating with Erwin fucking Smith. And he still gives Levi that uncomfortable jittery feeling that he can’t describe. But Erwin has an enthusiasm for skating and a dedication to the art that Levi can’t help but respect. Besides, Levi’s having fun with him. And Levi, if he’s going to be honest with himself, rarely has fun.

At the conclusion of yet another silly competition, Erwin says, “I have a bit of an odd request to ask of you.”

“Odder than a five minute spin sequence?” Levi’s still a little dizzy from that one.

“Yes, even odder than that,” Erwin says with a chuckle.

“Well, what is it?”

“Could I practice a lift with you? Not anything difficult, of course. Just a simple one.”

It takes a minute for Levi to realize what Erwin is asking of him, and another to convince himself that he understood correctly. “What?”

“I’m thinking of returning to pairs skating, but I worry that I’ve let some of my skills drop without someone to practice lifts with.”

“Holy shit. No. Ask Petra. She used to skate pairs.”

“I didn’t know that, I will ask her. But for the time being . . .”        

“No.”

Erwin sighs. “Very well. It was something of a long shot.”

“You’re a weirdo, you know that?” Erwin merely shrugs. “What do I have to do?”

“Hm?”

“For you to lift me. What do I have to do?” He’s gone along with enough weird challenges today that, honestly, another one couldn’t hurt. And he can’t help but be a little curious as to what Erwin intends to do.

“You’ll do it?”

“Just once. Quickly. Call it payment for giving me advice. Now, what do I have to do?”

“Just skate towards me,” Erwin says. “And keep your core tight. We’ll just do a basic waist lift.”

Well. That much Levi can do. He skates to Erwin.

The lift happens more quickly, and more fluidly, than Levi expected. One second he’s skating normally, the next his feet leave the ice. Erwin’s hands close around his waist and lift him up with seemingly effortless grace, cool air fluttering in his hair as Erwin moves around the rink. Levi steadies himself with his hands on Erwin’s shoulders and looks down. Erwin can’t see where he’s going, but he seems to be doing fine regardless, face set in concentration.

Then Erwin says, “I’m putting you down now” as he slows to a stop. They’re motionless for a moment, and from this angle Levi notices the exact shade of gold in Erwin’s hair and the exact curve of his nose. Then Levi’s set down on the ice, and the unusual moment is over.

“Thanks for doing that,” Erwin says.

Levi shrugs. “It wasn’t hard. But then again, it was nothing like a lift you’d do in competition.”  

“That’s true,” Erwin says with a smile.

“Let’s do that again,” Levi says. “Keep skating when you set me down this time, like you’d do in a real lift.”

“I don’t want you to fall,” Erwin says.

“I haven’t fallen on the ice for years. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

“Very well. Keep your core tight and elevate your spine.”   

Levi skates a few yards away before turning around to face Erwin again. “Got it,” he says.  

This time’s easier. He knows when to expect Erwin, and he’s ready when Erwin’s hands grasp his sides. He even has the presence of mind to arch his back and keep his hands off Erwin’s shoulders, making the lift more similar to one Erwin would do with a female skater. Levi closes his eyes briefly, feeling the air rush by him. And he has the thought that this is closer to flying than any skating he’s ever done before.

“Ready to be set down?”

Levi opens his eyes. “Ready.”

The dismount is anything but graceful. Levi doesn’t know what to do with the momentum Erwin gives him, and he ends up sliding backwards and stumbling, unsure which edge of the skate to settle on. But he stays on his feet, and that’s more than a lot of people can say for their first time coming out of a lift.

“Not bad,” Erwin says.

“One more time.”

“Are you sure? You said only once.”

Levi shrugs. “There’s no point in practicing something only once. Come on. Let’s go.”

They end up practicing the lift three more times. And each time, Levi’s a little better—a little more graceful, a little stronger on the dismount. And each time, Levi feels more like he really is flying.

After their fifth practice lift, Erwin smiles at him and says, “You’re getting better every time.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Levi trails off. He notices that Erwin’s hands haven’t moved from  Levi’s waist. But he doesn’t want to say anything, because that would be making it a big deal. And it’s not a big deal. And the warmth pooling in his middle is from the exertion of the long practice, and not from anything else.  

Levi glances to the side and freezes when he sees Petra leaning against the boards, watching intently.

Now he yanks himself away from Erwin’s grasp, mortified. Erwin follows Levi’s gaze to where Petra stands, and he doesn’t look too comfortable himself.

“Okay, we’re done,” Levi says. He remembers that Petra teaches the class that afternoon. He should have been expecting her to show up. But his practice slot can’t be over already, can it? He feels like he’s barely begun.

“Yes. Um, thank you for the practice,” Erwin says. Levi doesn’t respond. Instead, he speeds to the edge of the rink—the opposite edge from where Petra stands—and stalks off to the locker room without saying goodbye.

*****

Two days later, Petra is in the lobby when Levi enters the arena. So is Erwin’s coach. And so is Erwin.

Levi’s eyes travel over each one in turn, lingering on Erwin. They’re all standing in a row and, when Levi enters, all three of them turn to face him. It’s borderline creepy.

“Levi,” Petra says. “We have a proposition for you.”

“Okay?” He notices that all three of them look, in varying degrees, a little nervous.

“The other day, I saw you and Erwin doing lifts together,” Petra says. “You took to it really well. Few people look like that their first time being lifted.”

Levi has no idea where she’s going with this. He glances at the other two. Erwin’s coach is simply watching, but he’s looking at Petra more than Levi. Erwin’s face is schooled into a blank look, awkwardness revealed only in the fact that he’s looking above Levi’s head and not at Levi himself.

“And remember what I was saying before about needing to give you more presence?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Well Erwin has a lot of presence on the ice. And according to his coach, what he’s missing—grace and a sense of delicacy—is what you have. So, it’s a little unorthodox, but we were thinking—all three of us, I mean—that we might really have a winning team if you skate pairs with Erwin.”

His mind grinds to a halt. Levi looks from one to the other, expecting someone to explain or declare that it was only a joke. But they’re all only watching him expectantly.

“ _What?_ ”

“I know it sounds strange, but we think you two have really great chemistry--”

“You want me to skate the lady’s part with Erwin?”

“You do have the build for it.”          

“Is that even legal?”

Erwin’s coach—Levi doesn’t even remember his name—speaks up for the first time. “It’s a new rule change within the skating commission, passed only a couple weeks ago. Same sex couples can now skate as pairs. Civil rights groups lobbied for it.”

Levi gapes at them. He turns to Erwin and asks, “Do _you_ want to do this?”

“I do need a new partner,” Erwin says. “And you’re a very talented skater who I respect and enjoy skating with--”

“Don’t tell me this was your idea?” he spits.

“It was my idea,” Petra says. “But Erwin was enthusiastic about it. Look, at nationals you guys will have to skate singles anyway. It’s too soon to work out new routines. But for internationals, I’d really like to give this a try.”

“No,” Levi says. He practically spits out the word, and layering all his annoyance into it. “I skate _alone_.” And he shoves past them to the locker room.

Levi’s irritably lacing up his skates when Erwin enters. Great. Exactly who he wants to see.

Erwin moves slowly, as if not to disturb Levi. He sits on the bench across from him and waits for Levi to look up. Levi doesn’t.

“Levi,” Erwin says. His voice is soft. Levi doesn’t like the way his name sounds in Erwin’s mouth. “I understand your discomfort. It’s certainly an unusual request, and I have nothing but respect for your decision either way. But I would really like to give it a try.”

Levi sighs and looks up. He’s about to tell Erwin to fuck off, but something in Erwin’s expression makes him pause. That gives Erwin just enough time to begin speaking again.

“Think of it this way. After Nationals, there’ll be a period of a couple months before we have to start thinking about putting together our routines for Internationals. During those two months, we can practice together in a sort of trial period. And after that trial period, we can decide if we want to go through with it.”

He speaks with a calm, quiet tone, almost soothing. And when Levi looks up at him, his eyes are pleading. Clearly, for whatever reason, he wants to go through with it, though Levi can’t imagine why. Erwin seems so earnest that Levi briefly considers saying yes just out of pity—but Levi never does anything out of pity, and he quickly clamps down on that impulse.

Still, Erwin makes a good argument. A trial period is a lot less daunting than committing right now to be Erwin’s partner. And it would be a good way to challenge himself with something new before plunging into preparation for Internationals.

“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “We can do a two month trial period. Don’t expect any more than that.”

Erwin smiles. “I think that’s only fair. Thank you, Levi.”

“You’re welcome. Now I came here to practice, not to discuss stupid ideas.”   


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another friendly reminder that I am not a figure skater and I don't really know what I'm talking about. I'd also like to add that I'm not a costume designer, please forgive my less-than-creative designs. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who read and commented <3

Lifts are fucking hard.

They’re still a couple months away from Nationals, and so Petra carves out a little bit of time to teach Levi the basics of lifts (with Erwin’s help). And Levi quickly realizes that what he initially did with Erwin is far from all that goes on.

First, doing it properly means jumping into each one. So he has to learn which types of jumps are required for which types of lifts, and how to nail the timing and the angle. And that’s just getting into the lift. Once up, he has to hold himself just so in order to maintain balance. And after all that he still needs to look good coming down. It’s miserable.

Lifts are awkward, too. Erwin holds him by the waist or at the hip, and it’s a damn good thing that Levi’s too busy concentrating on not falling on his face to concentrate on where Erwin’s putting those hands. Because when Levi does take a moment to think about it, he finds himself fixated on the where and how often Erwin is touching him.

The other parts of pairs skating are easier—making sure they’re moving in time with each other is no harder than making sure he’s in time with the music in general. It’s just those fucking lifts that make Levi want to give up and call the whole thing off.

But they pick it up, little by little. Gradually, so gradually that Levi barely notices it in between practicing his Nationals routine, he gets the hang of it.

*****

Nationals comes and goes. Erwin places second. Levi places third.

They all go out to celebrate—Levi, Erwin, Mike and Petra. They treat themselves to a fancy dinner, take themselves out to drinks after. Each one is in high spirits, feeding off each other’s happiness. Even Levi can’t help but spend the night smiling.

Late in the night, Erwin leans over to Levi, close enough that Petra and Mike cannot hear over the noise of the bar and says, “I just want to say congratulations again. You came very close to beating me, and I know you worked very hard.” He’s said that several times already tonight. But this time is different. His voice is lower, and the look in his eye more focused.

Levi feels light-headed from drinking more alcohol than usual, and that combined with his big win gives him a pleasant buzz. Tonight, Levi feels able to fly even without his skates. He likes how Erwin’s leaning across their small table as though sharing a secret.

“Well, you’re not used to skating singles,” Levi says with a shrug. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have been so close to you.”  

“And I can’t imagine how good we’d be when our skills are combined.”

“But combined we’re . . .” Levi almost laughs as he thinks back to their last joint practice, “I look like a sack of potatoes when you carry me.”

“Nonsense. You’re a very lovely sack of potatoes.”

Now Levi does laugh. It’s quick and light, close to a giggle, and he definitely wouldn’t be laughing like this if he wasn’t a little drunk. Levi recognizes this distantly, but can’t bring himself to care. “I don’t think judges give points for skating with a sack of potatoes.”

“Mmm, perhaps when they see what an attractive and talented sack of potatoes we have they’ll change their mind.”

“Fuck off, I’m not a sack of potatoes.”

“You just said you were.” And now they’re both laughing, stupid and drunken and happy. Levi looks up to see what Mike and Petra think of this, but their seats are empty.

“Petra’s in the bathroom and Mike’s getting another drink,” Erwin says when he sees Levi’s confusion.

“Oh. I’d like another drink.”

“You have half of one still left.”

Levi looks down at his mostly full glass. “Oh.” He had forgotten. His mind feels hazy. Anything that’s not Erwin keeps slipping out of it.

Erwin laughs again. His laugh is deep and rich and comes in waves that Levi could drown in. “You’re a cute drunk,” Erwin says.

“Shut up, I’m not drunk.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.” Levi lifts a finger and points it at Erwin to emphasize his point. “I do _not_ get drunk.”

“Never?”

“Never _ever_.” As he speaks, Levi hears his words and realizes that he is, without a doubt, very drunk. But he’s not admitting that to Erwin.

“My apologies then.” Erwin’s smiling. Not his confusing smile, but the warm and genuine smile. A smile that makes Levi want to smile.   

Levi lowers his hand and looks down at the table where his fingers rest inches away from Erwin’s. Next to Erwin’s hands, his own look exceptionally small. “You have big hands,” he says before he can stop himself. Definitely drunk.

“What’s that?”

“Hands.” Levi nods at them. “Yours are big.”

“Really?” Erwin’s smiling even wider now. He looks like he’s about to laugh.

“Yeah. Look.” Levi picks up Erwin’s wrist. With his other hand, he presses his palm against Erwin’s palm for comparison. His slight fingers barely reach the second knuckle of Erwin’s fingers. “Your hands are fucking massive.”

“I suppose they are,” Erwin says. “But then again, your hands are really very slender.”

“I guess . . .”

They examine the relative size of their hands, looking at where their palms meet as if it contains some great secret. Erwin’s touch makes his hand comfortably warm.

Levi looks up at Erwin and notices that they’ve somehow gotten closer without realizing it. He’s never looked at Erwin’s face this intently before. He’s never noticed how light Erwin’s eyes are or how soft his lips look. It takes Levi a minute to notice that Erwin is looking at him just as intently.

Mike returns to his seat, and Erwin instantly snatches his hand away, as though caught doing something wrong. Levi lowers his hand as well, a little more reluctantly. His palm tingles where Erwin had touched it, and suddenly the bar feels hot. It must be because of the alcohol, Levi decides. It’s starting to affect him more now, making his mind feel even fuzzier.

But the alcohol can’t explain his desire to touch Erwin’s hand again.

*****

The next month is exhausting.

Now that Nationals has finished, pairs practice begins in earnest. And lifts are still impossible. Levi works on them with Erwin hour after hour, day after day, but still doesn’t feel like he’s getting anywhere. It’s so frustrating that he considers quitting several times, and he counts down the days until the promised trial month is over and he can go back to skating alone.

Skating alone had been his habit, and Levi doesn’t do well when his habit is disrupted. It takes him a while to get used to seeing Erwin at every practice or to having to time his moves with Erwin’s, and the frustration of learning lifts makes it that much worse. The first week of the trial month passes in irritation, and the second does as well.

But by the end of the third week, Levi finds, much to his surprise, that he’s starting to form a new habit. It’s gradual, and it’s subtle, but Levi notices it in little ways. In how he stops minding so much when he sees Erwin on the rink. How he starts automatically checking out of the corner of his eye for Erwin when they skate. And, perhaps most surprising of all, Levi finds that after the third week, lifts are no longer impossible. Just difficult.

Then the trial month is over, and Levi finds himself once again confronted by Petra, Mike and Erwin. The three of them line up and face him just as they did when they initially proposed the partnership, waiting to see what Levi will choose to do.

Levi looks first at Petra, who’s waiting eagerly for his reply. He knows that she wants him to continue. And then he looks at Mike, who’s watching with an impassive, thoughtful expression. Levi gets the sense that Mike couldn’t care either way, but he probably feels more comfortable with just Erwin.

And then he looks at Erwin. Levi thinks back to the first time they met, to the stupid competitions and their awkward first lift. He thinks the about feeling of flying when he’s in the air. About how he no longer minds seeing Erwin every day.

Skating alone had been his habit. But now he’s formed a new one.

“Sure,” he says, surprising even himself. “I’ll enter Internationals with Erwin.”

*****

Then it’s time to pull a routine together.

The four of them spend an entire day at Petra’s listening to song after song. They debate each one’s merits and discuss possible choreography, arguing over which piece is best. Then Erwin puts in an old album of classical music, and it plays a song calls “Elsa’s Procession” that’s slow and sweet and builds to a soaring crescendo. And this one, they all agree, is right.

After that comes the choreography. Petra and Mike work around the clock to decide when to place each trick. The height of the jumps and the rotations of the spins and each step they take are written and rewritten. Levi and Erwin are forced to run through minor variations over and over again until it’s finally perfect. After a month of this, Levi’s not sure he can hear “Elsa’s Procession” one more time without going insane.

But the routine comes together, gradually. And they improve gradually, until it’s several months later and Levi can finally run through the routine without a hitch.

And then before Levi knows what’s happened, they’re less than two months out from Internationals and getting fitted for costumes.

Levi’s costumer is a person named Hanji who lives and breathes costume design. He’s been working with them for years, and though Levi sometimes finds their exuberant personality a little much, they get the job done well. Now, they slide three different sketches across a table and lean back, watching as Levi and Erwin examine them.

“So. I listened to the song several times,” they say. “Researched it a little. Read about the opera it comes from. And this is what I came up with. I wanted to go with a basic black and white color scheme. So Levi, you’ll be in all in white.” They point to the first sketch. It’s a rough image of Levi wearing white pants and a white tunic with a slightly angled hem.

“The silhouette is pretty basic, but I think the cut of the tunic will really complement you and make you look elegant without looking feminine,” Hanji continues. “Now, I know that there’s a thing with a swan in the opera, and I wanted to work that in. So, I’m going to put this pattern in black glitter on the back of Levi’s tunic.” Hanji points to the second sketch, a smaller one with nothing but a design drawn on it. Curving strokes go upwards to the left and right, creating the illusion of wings.

“Swans aren’t black, but they have wings, and it’ll be something to break up all the white. Now, Erwin, you’re going to kind of mirror him. You’re all in black. Your shirt’s going to be a little looser, I’m kind of going for a medieval-type blouse-thingy. So, it’s going to be billowy and have this draw-string close at the top. Think pirates. And then on your back will be the same pattern as Levi, except in white glitter.”

“These designs are lovely,” Erwin says. “Very simple and elegant.”

“Yeah, I’ve learned from Levi to keep it simple and elegant.” Hanji winks at Levi. Levi hates elaborate costumes, and his first partnership with Hanji had them reworking their design again and again, taking away color and sequins until there was almost nothing left. By now, Hanji knows what Levi’s looking for.

“So. What do you guys think?” Hanji asks.

Erwin and Levi turn to look at each other. Levi can tell from Erwin’s expression that he’s pretty pleased, and Levi is as well. He nods, and Erwin smiles at him.

“Yeah,” Levi says to Hanji. “We’ll take them.”

“Great! I’m especially excited about the glitter wings. Anyway, I just need Erwin’s measurements. Get on over here, big guy.” Hanji extracts a measuring tape from the nest of other measuring tapes swarming their neck and motions Erwin over. Erwin smiles as he stands where Hanji directs him and allows them to wrap the tape around what seems to be every inch of him.

There’s a light knock on the door, and Petra pokes her head into Hanji’s workshop. “How are things going in here?”

“Petra my dear!” Hanji calls out. “Everything’s going great. The boys liked my costumes on the first try.”

“Well, that’s good,” Petra walks in and picks her way through Hanji’s cluttered workshop, around bolts of fabric and over piles of trim, until she reaches the chair by Levi’s side. As she sits down, she pulls a rolled-up magazine out of her purse. “So I have good news and . . . awkward news.”

Levi glances down at her magazine. “What?”

“The good news is that you and Erwin have received your first bit of press.” Petra opens up the magazine to a page towards the back and points to an article in a side column. The title reads “ _Breaking Boundaries in Figure Skating_ ” and, under that, “ _Are Same-Sex Pairs Becoming a Trend on the Ice?_ ”

“This article’s about us?”

“About you and a couple other people who have taken advantage of the new rule change. But you two are featured the most, since Erwin’s so popular.”

“Popular?” Erwin says from where he stands. “Why, that’s very flattering.”

“Get over yourself,” Levi says. “So what’s the awkward news?”

“Well, the article assumes you and Erwin are a couple.”

“ _What?_ ” Erwin and Levi say it at the exact same time, and in almost the exact same horrified tone.

“The article speculates that you and Erwin are dating.” Petra shrugs. “Not really a big deal. . . ”

“Of course it’s a big deal,” Levi says. He snatches the magazine away from Petra and skims the article until he reaches their names.

“ _Erwin Smith, Olympic Silver Medalist, is at the forefront of the changes imminent in the world of figure skating_ ,” the article reads. “ _After the retirement of his former partner, Marie Dawk, Smith has invited his boyfriend, budding skater Levi Ackerman, to be his new partner._ ”  

“What the fuck,” Levi says. “Boyfriend?”

“Wait,” Hanji sits up from where they’re sitting on the floor writing down measurements. Just their head rises above the table that separates them. “You two _aren’t_ dating?”

“What?”

“I thought you two were dating.” They shrug. “I mean, it looks like it.”

“How the fuck does it look like it?” Levi demands. Erwin doesn’t say anything, but the thick brows come together in confusion.

“Well, you two walked in here laughing about something today. And Levi, you never laugh. Ever. Also, you talked with your eyes.”

“The fuck do you mean, we talked with our eyes?”

“When I asked you if you liked the costumes, you did this little glance-nod-thingamabob at each other and communicated without talking. You know.”

Levi’s about to share some choice words, but Erwin speaks first, thankfully. He is, as usual, much more polite than Levi was about to be. “I can see why you would think that, though it’s very funny for us to hear,” he says through a light chuckle. “But no, Levi and I are not dating. Our only relationship is a professional one.”

“Oh,” Hanji says, looking disappointed.

“But now everyone’s going to think there’s something else going on.” Levi scowls at the magazine.

“It’s not necessarily bad press,” Petra says. “You can correct people the next interview that comes around, and until then you’ve caught peoples’ interest.”

“It’s fucking gossip.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional gossip,” Erwin says. He’s being surprisingly good-natured about this whole thing, though his smile seems a little off. “It was just an error.”

“Still.” Levi looks down at the article, and he starts to feel oddly jittery.

“We can simply contact the magazine and request an interview to set the record straight,” Erwin says. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

“Yes.” Levi stands. The jittery feeling is getting stronger. There are thoughts at the edge of his mind that he doesn’t want to entertain. “You guys don’t need me here, right? I’m going home.”

He doesn’t wait for anyone to respond as he leaves the workshop. Lines from the article buzz through his mind unbidden while he steps out of the shop and onto the street.

_His boyfriend, Levi Ackerman . . ._

Levi’s never had a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. He’s never been interested in dating at all. Skating takes up all his spare time, and besides, the whole idea of dating seems awful to him. Someone always around, demanding his time, doing pointless romantic gestures. No, Levi would rather be alone.

And dating Erwin, of all people, would be the worst. Erwin’s a good skating partner, but he’s also awkward, and overly polite, and Levi’s opposite in so many ways.

The height difference alone would make it awkward. How could they even kiss? He’d have to stand on his toes, or Erwin would have to bend down, or probably both, in order for their lips to even come close. And then maybe Levi would have to support himself on Erwin’s shoulders, or . . .

Levi plays this scenario through and feels a strange constricting in his chest. It’s as though someone has a fist around his heart, uncomfortably tight and upsettingly warm. He shakes his head and looks at the gray streets he’s walking down. There’s a swirl of pedestrians around him, and Levi tries to focus on each one as they pass. The focus, making himself think about something else, lessens the tightening in his chest a little. But whenever his focus slips, even for a second, the feeling comes back.

*****

“We need to schedule some sort of press interview,” is the first thing Levi says to Petra when he arrives at the next day’s practice.

Petra glances at Mike and shrugs. “We’ll try,” she says. “Press is going to pick up in a couple weeks, but for now it’s pretty slow. There isn’t a big enough market for figure skating news that isn’t Olympic.”

“Well, try hard,” Levi says. “I don’t want to let that gossip sit out there for so long that everyone starts believing it.”

Erwin makes no comment on the matter. He simply focuses on practicing, though he’s a little quieter than usual. They run through their warm-ups and then begin by reviewing their lifts, spending extra time on a twist lift. It’s perhaps a more difficult move than Levi’s ready for, but he insisted that they include at least one challenging lift in the program, something that would make them competitors against pairs that had been skating this way for years.

In this move, Erwin lifts Levi by the waist, tosses him so that he rotates vertically in the air, and then catches him. It’s taken months of practice to get it right.

To enter the lift, they both skate backwards, Levi in front of Erwin. He feels Erwin’s hands settle on his waist almost at the same time he toe-picks the ice and pushes himself up. 

They’ve done this hundreds of times, day after day after day, and Levi has barely felt any awkwardness. Erwin holds his waist solely because he needs to, and it’s just a part of the dance. A part of the job.

But today, because of that damn stupid article, the words “his boyfriend” pop into Levi’s mind the moment Erwin touches him.

Levi’s tossed into the air, and he manages to keep it together long enough to rotate well. Then Erwin catches him, and Levi gasps when he does. Something tingles right under Erwin’s hands, and suddenly the chilly rink feels very hot. Levi’s set down, but that little gasp weakened his posture just enough to make the landing unstable, and Levi drops to his knees.

There’s a searing pain upon contact. His left leg can barely move. Levi grimaces and closes his eyes, clamps down on the string of swear words he wants to scream.

And then Erwin’s next to him, kneeling on the ice, and a hand settles on the small of his back. “Levi, are you okay?”

The hand’s warm and comforting, and by just focusing on that Levi’s able to take his mind off the pain. But then he realizes what’s happening, and he pulls himself away from Erwin, muttering, “Fine, I’m fine.”

Two more pairs of skates stop next to him with a spray of ice. “What happened?” Petra demanded.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Levi says. But he tries to get up, and a new wave of pain cripples him.

“I’ll get you up,” Mike says. “Petra, can you support him off the ice?”

“I can get myself up, just give me a minute.”

But that’s a lie, and everyone knows it. Mike gives Levi his hand and puts the other under Levi’s armpit, slowly easing him back onto his skates. From there, Petra drapes Levi’s arm around her shoulders and guides him off the ice, Erwin and Mike following behind.

“Levi, I’m so sorry,” Erwin says as Petra guides Levi onto a bench. “I don’t know what happened, I should have been more attentive.”

“It was my own damn fault,” Levi mutters, not looking at Erwin. A move was botched, and he was almost seriously injured, all because he had been thinking about Erwin’s hands and the stupid fucking article.

“How bad is it?” Petra asks.

“Hurts like hell. But I don’t think there’s any sprain or break. Just a bruise. I can probably go back out in a bit”

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Petra says. “Even if it’s just a bruise, we’re not straining that knee. That knee is important. You’re going home and putting ice on it.”

As if on cue, Mike approaches with an ice pack. Levi accepts it gratefully and presses it to his knee. The pain turns to a dull throb under the pressure.

“I can even give you a lift home so you don’t have to walk.” Petra says. “Mike, you want to grab his bag out of the locker room?”

“Levi, again, I’m so sorry,” Erwin says, and he sounds genuinely upset.

“Erwin, it wasn’t you.” But Levi can’t exactly tell him the real cause of his fall.

Erwin looks like he’s going to apologize again, but he’s interrupted by the sound of someone clearing her throat. There had been such a fuss around Levi that no one had noticed another person entering the arena.

“Excuse me,” she says. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something.”

Levi’s never met her, but he’d recognize the face of Marie Dawk anywhere.

“Marie,” Erwin says. And then he doesn’t say anything more. For once, Erwin appears to be speechless.

“Erwin. I’m sorry for showing up out of the blue. I . . . I wanted to talk to you about something.”

*****

Petra takes Levi home. Erwin and Marie stay behind.

Levi rests for the next few days at Petra’s insistence. As much as Levi hates missing practice, especially with Internationals so close, he understands that his leg needs to heal.  

Erwin comes by late in the afternoon the following day. He’s brings Levi a small box of candy and another apology.

“Holy shit, Erwin, how many times do I have to tell you it wasn’t your fault?” Levi snaps a little too harshly. “Did you really come all the way here to apologize for something you didn’t do?”

“Actually, I had something I wanted to talk to you about,” Erwin says. “And I wanted to do it . . . sooner rather than later.”

He sounds surprisingly serious, and it makes Levi uncomfortable “Is this the kind of thing I invite you to come in and sit down for?”

“If you don’t mind.”

He stands back and lets Erwin enter his apartment. It’s a small place, and the drawn blinds make it appear close and shadowy. But it is, at least, spotlessly clean. Erwin takes up a position on an armchair, and Levi settles onto his couch.

Levi turns on a lamp before he sits, intending to make the place a little brighter. Instead, it creates a small pool of light that just barely contains himself and Erwin. The rest of the apartment seems dimmer by contrast, and the two of them have to lean in to see each other.

“So, what the hell is this? Are you breaking up with me?” Levi means it as a joke, but Erwin just barely forces a smile.

“Yesterday, Marie Dawk came to visit me,” Erwin says.

“I saw.”

“She’s here visiting family, but she also had a request for me.”

Erwin seems to be having difficulty saying whatever it is he came to say. Levi stays silent as he waits for him to get it out.

“She initially quit skating to start a family. But it turns out that she can’t do that. She and her husband can’t have children. And given that, she wants to return to skating. With me.”

And this is where Levi’s habit of staying expressionless comes in handy. Because before he can get control of himself, he feels a whole array of emotions—sadness, and anger, and a surprising, irrational hurt – but his face shows none of it.

“Okay,” Levi says.

“Okay?” Erwin asks, as if surprised. As if waiting for more.

“Yeah. Okay. It’s your skating career. You can do what you want,” Levi hears himself say.

“But it’s also your skating career,” Erwin says quietly.

“Well, I usually skate alone,” Levi says. “And I prefer it that way, anyway.” His words sound hollow. He finds that he can’t quite remember what it was like to skate alone, or why that was better.

“True. But I thought . . . I mean, you worked so hard to learn to pairs skate.”

Levi shrugs. “It’s something any good skater should have a basic knowledge of. I don’t consider it a waste.”

“Ah. Well . . . I’m glad you’re so comfortable with this. It makes my decision much easier.”

“Will you go back to skating with her after Internationals?”

“Yes, I believe that’s the plan.”

“Move back to your old city?”

“Yes, I would have to.”  

“Well. I’ll root for you two at the next Olympics.”

“And perhaps we’ll see you there.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Erwin stands. His face disappears outside the pool of light. “Well, now I feel a little silly for coming all the way here. I thought it would be . . .”

Levi wants to know what he thought it would be. Harder? Sadder? Did he expect Levi to protest and demand that he doesn’t go? Because that’s what Levi wants to do. But that would be stupid.

Levi stands as well and shrugs. “Glad I made things easy.”

“By the way, I should tell you that Mike succeeded in getting us a press interview. It’s next Tuesday. So that should make you, um, feel more comfortable.”

“That’s good,” Levi says.

And then there’s nothing more to say. Erwin briefly looks at the ground before clearing his throat. “I hope your knee feels better,” he says.  

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you at practice.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Erwin leaves. Levi returns to his seat on the couch and switches on the TV, searching for a distraction. Any distraction. He shouldn’t be feeling this badly. There’s no justifiable reason to feel this disappointed, and definitely no reason to feel betrayed. After all, it’s best for Erwin. He’s meant to skate with someone who has the same amount of experience as him, someone he’s known and skated with for years.

And Levi’s meant to skate alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A note on the song choice:** I didn't want to dig through lots of new music to find something, so I tried to think of instrumental pieces that I already knew. Elsa's Procession to the Cathedral is a song I played in concert band twice, so I know it really well, to the point where I can comfortably visualize a routine to it. I think that in reality, it's too slow for a figure skating competition. But it's pretty and I like it. (And the fact that it's about someone going to church to get married, and that in the original opera it appeared in, it came right before the song that's now the traditional wedding song . . . those fun facts had no bearing on my choice. Of course.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and liked this!! This thing collected kudos a lot faster than I expected to and I am, as usual, really humbled by the response. 
> 
> Enjoy the finale!

Practices are quiet. Their usual conversation slows down. There’s no time for it anymore with the competition coming up. That, at least, is how Levi rationalizes Erwin’s distance.

And then, after six months that feel like the blink of an eye, Internationals arrives.

*****

The night before the competition finds Levi at the rink.

It’s already been shut down and the ice smoothed over, but he has a pass to get in whenever he wants. One of the benefits of being a pro. Levi turns on the few lights necessary to see, giving the arena a dim glow. The silence and the emptiness of the place feel oddly freeing. Here, there’s no competition, no interviews or rival skating partners. It’s just him and the ice.

He creates fresh marks on the smooth rink, the scrape of his blades echoing sharp and clear against the arena’s silence. Twin lines cut across the ice behind him, an even pair. Then he turns his head, and there’s Erwin. He stands in the same spot as when Levi first saw him, all those months ago.  

“I thought I’d find you here,” Erwin says. And Levi realizes that he could say the same.

“What are you doing here?” Levi asks. He’s halfway across the rink from Erwin, but they can hear each other clearly. Sound travels easily when the place is empty.

“I couldn’t stay away from the ice the night before a competition.” Erwin steps onto the rink and glides to where Levi is.

Levi had initially come to be alone, but now he’s glad that Erwin’s here. If tomorrow’s their last day skating together, Levi wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

Erwin comes to a stop in front of Levi. “You know, all this time skating with you, and I never asked,” he says. “Why do you skate?”

Levi has a host of answers to this question, usually said to shut up people gawking at a male figure skater: He has the right build for it, it’s good exercise, it’s the only thing in this world that he doesn’t hate to do. For the first time in his life, Levi decides to tell the truth.

“It makes me feel free,” he says. “Sort of like I’m flying, I guess.” And then he adds, “Why do you skate?”

“To create a physical work of art, something beautiful for others to enjoy.” He smiles at Levi. “I like your answer better. It’s more poetic.”

“That’s bullshit,” Levi says. Erwin chuckles, and the two of them look out over the open ice.

“I just want to say it’s been an honor skating with you,” Erwin says. “I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. You’re going to go on to do great things.”

“Same to you,” Levi says. He could add his own comment, but he’s never been very good with words, and Erwin’s said everything perfectly anyway.  

“I’m going to miss this,” Erwin says. And then he turns to Levi and smiles. “What do you say we run through our routine? Just once. For just the two of us.”

“We don’t have any music.”

“We’ve been through it so many times, I’m sure we have it in our heads.”

That’s true. Levi could hear the music, perfect timing and all, in his sleep. “Okay.”

They skate over to the center of the ice, where the routine begins.

“Ready?” Erwin asks. Levi nods.

And they launch into motion.

The routine begins with a graceful loop around the rink as Levi alternates between taking Erwin’s hand and skating away from him. Back and forth, circling around each other until Erwin takes him into a short carry with a low waist lift. A few turns, and then they’re twirling in a slow, synchronized Y spin, ankles held up by their ears.

A jump is the next move, a side-by-side triple toe loop landed perfectly in sync. Levi retakes Erwin’s hand after that, skating under his arm and then making dizzying circles around him. Their moves speed up as the music crescendos, and then another jump accentuates the next big swell.

Now they’re in their second lift, a swan lift that has Levi parallel to the ground. He spreads his arms and lifts his head and, for a moment, he truly is flying.

When he’s set down he immediately drops into a sit spin. Erwin remains standing, holding onto his hand as the two of them spin each other around and around. When Erwin pulls Levi up, they immediately transition into a pair camel spin. Both hold their legs out behind them while the other bends over each other. They’re twined together in this move, rotating fast enough for Levi to feel a rush of wind, until they drop each other’s legs and separate, creating several feet between them.

The music is reaching its most dramatic point now. They pass each other, swirling closer and closer in a frantic dance. Three loud chords complete the piece, and there’s a move to go with each of them. In his head, Levi counts them off.

One—the twist lift. Levi hurtles towards Erwin, is thrown into the air, and lands perfectly.

Two—another triple jump, completed in sync.

And three—Levi spins into Erwin. Hands grasp his middle, and he’s raised up into his final pose, a waist lift that mirrors the first lift they ever did together. Levi keeps his arms out and back arched while Erwin carries him across the ice to stop in the center.

And that’s it. The routine is over, and completed to perfection. Levi looks down at Erwin, breathing hard. Erwin is also panting, eyes glowing, a broad smile across his face. They don’t speak. They don’t need to. Both know that they’ve done it, and Levi’s never felt more satisfied about a routine.

And before he knows what he’s doing, Levi kisses Erwin.

When Levi skates a routine, he often feels that he’s entered into a sort of trance. Each move is so practiced that it becomes automatic. Now, Levi feels that same kind of trance. Kissing Erwin is automatic, something he has to do. The next, most natural part of the routine.

He curls his fingers into Erwin’s hair and presses their lips close. Erwin feels solid beneath him, beautiful in a way Levi’s never known before. Strong arms wrap around Levi’s back to hold him more securely, and Levi responds by pinning his knees on either side of Erwin’s torso. He pulls himself closer, holds his chest up against Erwin’s broad shoulders until he can feel the pressure of their heartbeat. The air in the ice rink carries a chill, but up against Erwin Levi feels warm. Comfortable. Oddly, free.

But eventually, Erwin has to set him down. And when he does, they separate, and the chill air hits Levi’s lips with the shock of the realization of what he’s done.

He’s gliding away from Erwin, the momentum of being set down carrying him across the ice. Levi lets it happen, lets himself travel away from Erwin’s flushed face and red lips and hands that are still held out, ready to take him back again.

“I don’t know where that came from,” Levi says, as much to himself as to Erwin.

And then he leaves, ignoring how Erwin calls after him

*****

Internationals is held in Levi’s country this year, only a three hour drive from his home. So he doesn’t have to do any traveling, doesn’t have to get on a plane or stay in a hotel room with Erwin. And thank god for that, because any extra time with Erwin right now would be a disaster. Instead, he drives with Petra and meets Erwin there.

And once he arrives it’s constant activity, warming up and stretching and getting into costume while Petra and Mike offer last-minute advice and pep talks. They barely have time to even think about the night before. But still, whenever Levi looks at Erwin, his stomach seems to flip.

At one point Erwin does bend over and whisper to Levi, “Can we talk about last night?”

But Levi merely replies, “We’ll talk after the competition,” and that’s it. Erwin doesn’t press the matter, and Levi has no intention of actually talking.

And then they’re waiting next to the rink, listening to the music of the pair before them. Erwin holds out his hand, and Levi accepts it without thinking. Weirdness aside, they both need each other’s support right now.

“Whatever happens, it’s been an honor skating with you,” Erwin says.

“You said that last night.”

“It’s been that much of an honor, I had to say it twice.”

That gets a little smile out of Levi. “Well, it’s been an honor skating with you, too.”

The pair before them finishes. They listen, tense with anticipation, until an echoing voice proclaims their names to the arena.  

Applause rises up around them, forming a wave that threatens to crash into them. But all Levi has to do is look out across the ice and feel his hand in Erwin’s, and he’s okay. He knows what to do here. This is where he belongs.

They turn to face the judges, still hand in hand. There’s a brief moment of silence as the whole arena waits with bated breath. Levi’s nervous, stomach tight and heart pounding. But then the first soft, sweet note of “Elsa’s Procession” sounds, and the nerves float away. All he’s left with is the music, the ice, and Erwin.

Performing the routine feels as natural as breathing. They glide together in perfect sync and, when Erwin performs the first short lift, Levi knows everything is right.

Afterwards, he can only remember a few moments of the performance. He remembers the swan lift, gliding through the air and seeing Petra’s face in the crowd. He remembers their joint spin, when Erwin’s upright and he’s crouching down, and how the force of Erwin’s hand is the only thing keeping him from careening out of control. And he remembers the end. Twist lift. Triple jump. And, one last time, Erwin’s hands supporting him as he flies through the air.

There’s a peculiar feeling that comes at the end of a routine well done – a floating sensation, as if satisfaction is enough to lift him. The crowd erupts into deafening applause. It’s a wave again, but this time it’s lifting them up, buoying their already high spirits to even greater heights

Erwin sets him down on the ice, grinning, and Levi realizes that he’s also grinning. He looks up at Erwin and hears the crowd and can’t stop himself.

Erwin says something that Levi can’t hear over the applause.

“What?”

“We did it,” Erwin shouts. “We did it, Levi. We did it.”

They hold hands as they leave the ice, still grinning. They’re both a little out of breath and a little sweaty and they’re both on top of the world.

Petra and Mike run over to congratulate them. Hanji bounds up to them and nearly knocks the two of them to the ground with their enthusiasm. Cameras flash. Reporters shout questions that don’t even register.

And then the scores are ready, and they sit with their coaches and anxiously hold onto each other as the booming voice reads out the numbers.

“Technical score, 47.65. Component score, 60.37. Combined total, 108.02.”

Levi lets out a breath of relief at the same time that Erwin says, “That’s good.”

He turns to meet Erwin’s gaze. “That’s definitely good.”

“That’s really good.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Levi, that’s really good!”

Levi hates hugs. He hasn’t intentionally hugged anyone for years. But now he and Erwin jump into each other’s arms and hold on tight. They look up at each other when they part, smiling like idiots, and Levi really, really wants to kiss him again.

And then Petra and Mike and Hanji are hugging them too, and there are flowers and the reporters crowd in and there’s so much going on that Levi can barely register it all.

This wave of triumph lasts as they make their way down the hall to the locker room.

But when they step inside everything settles into silence, the bustle of the outside hall nothing but a background murmur.

“Levi. I . . . thank you for that,” Erwin says a little breathlessly.

“Thank you,” Levi says. “You’re the one who wanted to skate together.”

“And I’m thankful you went along with it.”

Levi just shrugs. He is, too.

“I’ll really miss skating with you,” Erwin says.  

And just like that, the happiness deflates. Levi turns away from Erwin and focuses on changing. “Save it until for awards,” he says. “It’s not finished yet.”

*****

 It finishes on the podium.

They’re awarded bronze, third best in the continent, which, as Erwin says to Levi over the crowd’s cheers, is pretty impressive for someone who only recently learned to do lifts.

Levi probably would have won gold skating singles, doing what he was used to and good at. But, standing on the podium with Erwin, Levi can’t quite bring himself to mind.  

*****

And that’s it. Months of preparation culminating in one brief moment, and then in a flash it’s over.

“Drinks are on me and Mike!” Petra exclaims as the arena clears out. “We’re going somewhere fancy. Third best in the _continent_. You two are going to the Olympics together for sure.”

Levi and Erwin glance at each other. They hadn’t yet told their coaches that they’re ending the partnership.

But now’s not the time to tell them. Now they’re in a celebratory mood, and Levi and Erwin have no interest in bringing that mood down.

Erwin’s about to accept Petra’s offer when someone calls his name from behind.

“Erwin! Erwin Smith!” And, seemingly out of nowhere, Marie Dawk, runs up to meet them.

She gives Erwin a big hug, jumping up to be able to reach around his shoulders, and Erwin isn’t fast enough to return it. He remains stiff while Marie embraces him.

“You looked so amazing out there. You haven’t lost it one bit,” she says. “Congratulations.” And she briefly turns to Levi, gives him a nod, and says, “You too.” Then she’s focusing back on Erwin and chattering away about how well he did.

Petra is the one who finally stops her. She steps forward so that she’s practically between Erwin and Marie and says, “Hi. Petra Ral, Erwin’s coach for this past year. We were just about to go and celebrate as a team.”

The hint is clear, but Marie, apparently, has other ideas. “Oh, do you mind if I come? I’d love to celebrate my partner’s success.”

_Her partner_. The way she says it so casually makes Levi feel sick. 

“Yes, I mind if you come,” Levi spits. “You didn’t do anything worth celebrating. You sat at home for the past year. Go sit at home some more.” 

Marie gapes. It’s pretty satisfying to see, actually. Until Levi turns to his team and sees that they’re gaping a little, too. The coaches look from him to Marie with shock and maybe a little bit of amusement. But Erwin looks completely lost, and Levi realizes too late what an uncomfortable position he’s put him in.

Great. Now he’s made Erwin upset, and Marie doesn’t look like she’s going away regardless. What a great end to their last day as partners. Levi turns and leaves before he makes anything worse.

He feels sick. And he feels kind of dizzy. And he feels like a dumbass for overreacting just because he can’t handle losing a partner that he hadn’t even wanted in the first place.

Levi stops walking when he’s confident that he’s left everyone behind. He’s ended up in some utility hallway with unmarked doorways on either side and a humming sound in the background. There isn’t another soul in sight.

The medal still hangs around his neck, under his jacket. Levi pulls it out and looks at it, relives the moment when he stood next to Erwin receiving it.

Well, he’s definitely ruined that moment by acting like such an idiot just now. It’d probably be better if he didn’t see Erwin for a while.

“Levi.”

And even in this state, Levi can’t help but feel a little happy at the sound of his voice.

“Levi, I’m sorry about Marie,” Erwin says.

“It’s fine.” Levi drops the medal under his jacket and turns around. “She can come if she wants. Sorry I made a scene.”

“I already got rid of her.”

Levi sighs. It’d almost be easier to have a clean break. Marie in, him out. Get all the disappointment over with now. “I said it’s fine.”

“I don’t want her to come.”   

“Oh.” Erwin’s looking at him a little too intently. Levi looks away. “Okay then. Thanks. Let’s go celebrate.” He still doesn’t look at Erwin as he tries to walk past him.

“Wait.” Erwin holds out a hand and blocks Levi at his shoulder. “Can we talk?”

“Here?”

“Why not?”

Levi just shrugs. He doesn’t want to talk. But the hand on his shoulder is firm, and he stays.

“I want to talk about last night.”

Levi shakes his head. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Yeah. It was just . . .” Levi takes a breath to steady his voice. “Just a mistake. Okay? Forget it.”

“I don’t want to forget it.”

“Why not?”

Erwin doesn’t answer.

“Why not?” Levi asks again, a little more firmly. “Do you want to have something on me or something? Or do you . . .” Levi stops. He’s starting to get frustrated. Because if Erwin’s implying what Levi thinks he’s implying, god, that might actually be worse. To know that something’s there, or something could have been there, but that Erwin’s leaving him regardless.

“You know what, fuck you,” Levi snaps. “I was perfectly happy before you. And then you came along. And thanks to you, I don’t even know what type of skater I am any more. Just . . . you had your skating experiment or whatever. We did Internationals. Now it’s over. So now leave me be.”

“I never gave Marie my answer.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I never told Marie I would return to skating with her.”

“Well what the hell are you waiting for?”

And Erwin answers with a kiss.

And it feels right. The next, most natural part of the routine. Erwin cups Levi’s face between his hands and Levi steadies himself on Erwin’s shoulders, and his whole world is Erwin’s warmth. Levi had been right when he imagined this. Erwin had to bend down, and Levi had to stand on his toes, in order for their lips to come close. But he had been wrong in thinking it would be awkward.

Erwin pulls away. Their lips are still close, only inches apart, and Erwin’s hands stay on Levi’s cheeks. “I don’t want to skate with anyone else,” he says.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Levi feels like gravity’s not quite working right, but it feels kind of a nice. He holds on tighter to Erwin’s shoulders.

“I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“Oh.” Well. Levi had definitely worked hard to hide it, even from himself. “Uh . . . sorry.”

Erwin smiles – such a beautiful smile – and then he laughs, and Levi finds himself laughing, too.

“You’re forgiven.” Erwin presses his forehead to Levi’s and closes his eyes, sighing with satisfaction. “You’re forgiven.”

“So you’re skating with me next year?”

Erwin kisses him again. “Yes.” And again. “I’m skating with you next year.”

“That’s good,” Levi mumbles.  

And he does skate with Levi next year. And the year after that. In fact, Levi never skates alone again.


End file.
